


Never Let Me Go.

by NoelleWynters



Series: A Sense of Home. [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:37:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleWynters/pseuds/NoelleWynters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When you really love someone you don't need proof, you can feel it." - Cyrus.</p><p>On a snowy afternoon that sentiment becomes a topic of discussion between Alice, Rumpel and Neal, on the different types of love, while Belle teaches Henry to bake and Cyrus sleeps soundly, unaware he's become a bit of a topic for conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Let Me Go.

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, this is all for fun.
> 
> As well, I'm not sure if I should up the rating on this considering the topic at hand, although it doesn't get graphic. If you feel it should be upped, please let me know.

Unlike everyone else in the house, Alice did not marvel at how Cyrus could fall asleep at the drop of a pin. She’d grown accustom to that strange idiosyncrasy of his back in Wonderland. At times she’d envy him that, as it never took him long to fall asleep but the downside was it could be hard to rouse him, and she had yet to find a sure fire trick to wake him when there was need.

In Storybrooke that was no longer an issue, but it had been a problem back in Wonderland. There had been dangers everywhere and as they were always being hunted by someone in search of a genie, it was a setback that waking him was such a challenge. She’d asked him once about that, and he’d simply explained it was a peculiar inclination with genies; with all the time they spent alone in their bottle or lamp they would sleep until summoned. That lead her to conclude he slept so deeply because a genie normally wasn’t out of their prison as long as he had been, not that she would put him back in there and he had no desire to return to his bottle. It made sense to her after he’d told her that piece of information, but it didn’t mean she didn’t feel frustrated watching him sleep peacefully on a night she was too restless to fall into any form of slumber.

Rumpel had informed her he was easy to wake from a nightmare, but she didn’t wish those upon him simply to have him easy to rouse from sleep. She’d rather he slept soundly, over being haunted by shadows and memories of dangers long past.

On that particular snowy afternoon in late January there were no dangers to mention, of waking moments or those in dreams; unless one could count the fact Neal was trying to teach Henry how to bake. The young boy seemed to lack his father’s talent for anything in the culinary arts, and had set the smoke alarm off a few times. The shrill wailing of that abomination of an electronic had caused them all to clap their hands over their ears to muffle the offending sound, all the while shouting for someone to silence it.

Yet while all this happened, Cyrus continued to sleep soundly on the chesterfield in the sitting room, completely unaffected by the ear splitting chirpping of the smoke alarm, much to the amazement of all. The only indication he might have heard it was a slight grimace that crossed his face, but otherwise he continued to sleep.

As time passed though, Henry did seem to get a bit of a handle on what he was doing, mind one could chalk that up to Belle taking over as she had a clearer head when it came to dealing with children in the kitchen than Neal. Once he’d left Belle in charge, at her gentle insistence, he’d joined the rest of them in the sitting room to read a book, or simply watch the snow fall.

Alice reached out and ran her fingers through Cyrus’ wavy hair, softly cupping the one side of his face with the palm of her hand, smiling softly. Much to her continued surprise, she noticed how he leaned into the warmth of her touch, even in his sleep. That was another habit she’d noticed of his; waking or sleeping, he always longed for some form of physical contact. He either wanted to hold her hands, kiss her, stand close enough to feel her body against his or to feel her arms around him in an embrace.

Any moment he had the opportunity to touch her, he took it, and she noticed he was always very reverent about it. His touch was always soft, and she could feel his love and adoration radiating through it. There was no trace of him handling her as though she was some possession to be owned, he did not grab her in a rough manner, even when he was stopping her from falling into some danger or other his grasp was soft, yet firm. Everything about the way he was around her, the way he said her name, the glances he sent her way and his touch always made her feel as though she was the most important person in the entire world, and she instinctively knew he would never demand anything more of her or treat her in a less than gentle manner.

That was something she was always thankful for; she’d seen men who were rough with women back in her own world. It was nothing like the antics she’d seen through the few times she’d viewed anything on the magical box people in this world were fond of. She’d even noticed it in some books Alana had left behind after a visit. When the young woman had said they could burn them, she thought it was a joke until she began to read and realized why exactly Alana had been all for them being used as another form of kindling.

All these discoveries had made her wonder if women, and even men, in this realm thought it normal to be treated poorly and be handled as if they were nothing more than a pretty possession. All she’d seen and read, be it limited, made her wonder, and when she’d finally asked about it Neal assured her it was not. It was just strangely popular at times in the media for reasons he could never understand.

Home in England she’d seen men treat their wives poorly, and at times whilst she was growing up she thought maybe it was better not to get too close to someone. She longed for someone to hug her quite frequently, or even feel her father press a loving kiss upon her forehead at bedtime, but it was quite possible it was better to not long for that sort of interactions. Despite her age though, she had longed for him to caress her in a loving way she’d seen with other fathers and daughters, but knew it would never happen. So long as she bore any resemblance to her long dead mother, he would never see her as anything but a living reminder of what once was his, and never would be again.

And then she’d met Cyrus; someone who seemed to be even more starved for affections than she thought she could ever be. Not only did he delight in saying her name as often as possible, and he always seemed to be elated to hear her say his own, but he always wanted to have some form of physical connection to her when he could find an excuse for it. He’d come up with fanciful stories to steal a kiss among other things, but no matter what he did it was always respectful of her and she knew he was still simply expressing his love in his own way. He wanted to see if things he’d heard over the years were true, find out what was real and what was not, but his love for her ran deeper than any love she’d ever seen between two people before in her life.

But she still, after all this time, found his constant desire for human contact a little strange, even after coming to Storybrooke he still seemed to feed off it when anyone so much as took his hand in theirs.

“You know dearie, Will has a point when he says you think in a rather loud way,” Rumpel commented, grinning as Alice looked over at him. 

He could almost read her mind; he’d also noticed Cyrus’ habit of always wanting physical contact with people. Now that he was surrounded by more than just Alice he had so many more chances for it. 

When everything had settled after the ordeal with Jafar and they’d decided on who would summon the genie back and become his master, Rumpel had gone to check on him that same night in his room to find him once more in the throes of a nightmare. Thankfully it was in the beginning stages so he had not become frantic enough to wake anyone else.

Rumpel had been quick to wake him, and had done just as he’d longed to since being wished cured of the nightshade; he gathered Cyrus up in a hug as he used to do with Bae in times long passed. He didn’t care how old the genie was, sometimes a person simply needed to be held tightly to another to know they were loved and protected.

Not that Cyrus needed protecting, as Rumpel had learned shortly after first meeting him, but it helped make a person feel secure in life and one could not survive without some form of physical contact in their lives. He’d not been surprised when Cyrus had held on to him as if his life depended on it; Rumpel had noticed he was like that when he kissed Alice or even when Belle reached out to grasp his hands, although in those cases he hid it well. It didn’t take him much time to figure out why either: he’d been alone for so long and been treated as nothing more than a possession to be horded away that he longed to feel human contact to assure himself this time was different. That he was wanted.

That was something Rumpel could identify with, after losing Bae he’d locked himself away from the world willing. If the one person he’d loved more than life itself was lost to him then why should he even entertain the idea of companionship? Even after bringing Belle into his large and empty home, with the sole purpose of having her clean, he’d never thought he’d grow fond of her, and would have never dreamed that she’d in turn begin to love him.

And yet it had happened, and he was forever grateful for it. Whenever he stole a glance at her he was still amazed that she loved him, the most feared and likely hated man in all the Enchanted Forest, and he certainly would never be up for a congeniality award in Storybrooke either. No one outside of his family that had been formed by chance knew the real him. And he had no intention of showing it to any others in the town either.

Alice laughed slightly. “Sorry about that. I don’t know why, but I was just thinking back on our time in Wonderland and it just seemed a little odd to me Cyrus still has this need to feel people around him, in the rather literal sense. He must realize we all love him dearly.”

Neal grinned, he was well aware Alice knew why the man she loved was like that but she wanted someone else to confirm it for her. The girl was smart, but at the same time she longed for someone to say exactly what she’d concluded, in a bid to be sure she was right and wasn’t making a wrong judgement.

“You know, when I was alone for all those years after going through that portal the one thing I wanted more than anything was to feel my papa’s arms around me again. I spent years on that blasted island they call Neverland without anyone; no one to hug me, no light kisses on the forehead at night and no one to take my hand to lead me away from danger or to even squeeze it to let me know everything was going to be alright. I lost track of how long I was there, but it was maddening after awhile. I just wanted to feel that someone loved me and cared enough to extend some warmth through their touch.

“I’ll admit, when I came to this world and grew up, I discovered another way to achieve some form of physical contact with women that filled the void in some way,” he explained, earning himself a disapproving glare from Rumpel. “I’m not proud of it, trust me. I used women in an attempt to make up for all those years upon years alone. It wasn’t until I met Emma that it started to mean something. Her smiles were genuine, and every time we kissed or were together I suddenly discovered what I’d been missing all those years alone, and even in this realm with the other women, and it made me feeling complete for the first time in years. I’m not saying that is the type of contact he’s after either, the way he looks at you gives me the impression he loves you in a deeper way than I’ve ever seen anyone love in my life. You both have a connection, there are so many different ways to define love, yet I think you both have found something deeper than most could ever feel. It is more than obvious his desire for physical contact with everyone signifies he wants assurance we all are here, that we love him and see him as a person for a change; his love for you certainly transcends the tawdry.”

Alice grinned at that statement; she knew Cyrus was too much of a gentleman to ever push that part of a relationship that seemed to be a topic of conversation with some in this realm. There was also the fact he was a genie and he’d stated flat out one afternoon when Mary Margaret was getting on his last nerve, which took a lot, that he had could not have children and therefore she could drop the subject at hand. He also admonished her for being so foolhardy as to even speak to him about such intimate things. Alice had tried not to laugh at the baffled look on Mary Margaret’s face as Cyrus had walked out of the room, leaving her with something to think about over her careless words.

She’d dropped the topic, and although Alice liked the woman well enough she had no idea why she kept pushing that subject with both of them. It really was no business of her’s what anyone did when they were alone. It seemed to be a strange thing about this realm; people wanted to know every little thing you did with the person you loved and Alice had to admit she didn’t like that one bit. No one had any need to know what they did or did not do when alone, and the topic of children was insensitive at best.

“He told me when I first met him that if you really love someone you don’t need proof, you can feel it,” she said, reaching over to clasp one of his hands in hers. Even though he was still sound asleep, she could feel him squeeze her hand slightly in return.

Rumpel closed his book, a grin coming over his face. The statement really did hit home. If you loved someone there was no need to prove it, if they could not feel it than obviously they did not reciprocate that emotion. He’d noticed in this world people seemed to want proof in the form of gifts or certain types of physical acts to prove that the other loved them, but in truth it could all be said with a simple glance.

He had that with Belle, and he knew his son had that same connection with Emma. There was no doubt in his mind that Alice and Cyrus shared that same bond as well. If any of them, aside for Bae and Emma, ever chose to move their relationship into another part of a relationship it was their own business, but he knew it wasn’t a necessary.

Love came in many forms, and he knew from the way Cyrus looked at Alice, and she gazed at him in return that they had all the love they could ever need. They didn’t need to prove their love to one another through trinkets and other such motions and acts. As with his love for Belle, it didn’t need to be proven; both parties felt it and that made it the most powerful type of love in existence.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't originally going to post this, I wrote it a few days ago and played about with it and after a friend or two said it was a good story I thought I would share it, despite my own worries I'm about to get slammed horribly for it. The reason I wrote it was due to some odd requests for more romantic and even intimate scenes with Alice and Cyrus and I seem to be among the few who doesn't see the need for it with them.
> 
> I can see they are deeply in love, and I've always believed there are many forms of love and they don't always require a certain act to prove it. The desire for physical contact doesn't always need to result in that nor does being in love require it either, I think (but don't say that in mixed company, trust me). It seems at times in the media everything is so centered on that and I just wanted to write something sweet and fluffy I guess.
> 
> And well, in all truth out of the two couples on the show, I see it more with the Knave and Anastasia (when they get back together as we know it will happen eventually...but I don't write that sort of thing, I have intentions of getting them back together in this series and at most, I'll allude to it and leave the rest to the reader's imagination), not so much Alice and Cyrus. Their love seems very different to me. But we can all agree to disagree on that. 
> 
> I hope this is even slightly enjoyable though.


End file.
